SomethingEvil.com

The Adventure Chooses You

AnomolousMatter — Fri, 19 Mar 2010 18:22:00 +0000

Lost Highway

AnomolousMatter — Wed, 17 Mar 2010 21:48:16 +0000

Somone had to post something.

Just wanted to say, y’all . . .

Opiate — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 17:02:19 +0000

Sick of the bullshit. And the motherfuckers, y’all.

Sick of the sickness.

Jackpot, Bitch

Opiate — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 14:18:18 +0000

This commercial sends me into a near-murderous rage every time it comes on. If only on the final, shrill “Jackpot!” someone would walk up with a handgun and put a bullet through the back of his head, I’d consider buying a pizza.

The greatest thing to come out of twitter…

The Paradox — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 04:49:10 +0000

…The Longest Poem in the World.

Let’s Be Evil

AnomolousMatter — Sun, 23 Aug 2009 15:43:26 +0000

Sometimes you meet a person and that person wears a black bird on their shoulder. They’ll talk to you about the darkness and animal sacrifices and how the blood pours out of arteries and flows over the grass if you’re mature enough to see it, if you’ve gotten over your white Anglo-Saxon protestant set of morals. They may even say something about how dark and light is all a lie, just flip sides of the same coin, and there may seem to be a sense of truth in what they say, but there will also probably be a sense of unease and self deception.

Sometimes you’ll meet a devil at a crossroads and you’ll ask yourself the question, “Is it worth it? Should I accept the gifts of this starch-suited demon with a white smile and a black tongue? Are the gifts worth the price?” and the answer may very well be yes, and if it is then you’d better take the deal. A gift that turns into a greater gift is always worth more than your lowly soul.

Sometimes you’ll meet an alligator, if you’re marching through the swamp, and you’ll have sweat dripping in a pool from the tip of your nose, and mosquitos will flock around your carbon dioxide so you’ll probably be itching and tired and just want to lay down. You’d better watch out for his rolling and tumbling bite and push through the weariness or you’re going to end up on the bottom of the swamp, sucked into the plants and mud and bog, half-eaten and cold and lifeless.

Sometimes you’ll meet the sun right at the edge of the western sky, creeping its way down along the horizon, eventually leaving only moon and stars, and as the light slowly dies away you may see darkness and be struck by how the light and dark play against each other, one slowly turning into the other. It may strike you as a strange eternal game, and you may notice that the light and the dark are making love, not fighting, and that each dawn is the birth of day, every twilight the birth of night. Then you’ll realize that you must be lying to yourself, but every lie contains a hint of the truth, and every truth is also a lie. In the end, you may find that you’re a child of dark and light, which might make you uncomfortable, as they taught you in the chapel that we are all light, God is all light and holy and the light is holy holy holy but there is no holy night only holy sun.

Sometimes you may be standing in a city street in the evening time, streetlights blinding you to the cars and people around you. Sometimes you may think you can see, but then you may find that you never saw anything at all.

Remix the News

AnomolousMatter — Sat, 18 Jul 2009 18:57:47 +0000

56 Stars

Opiate — Sat, 20 Jun 2009 20:59:32 +0000

The headline should read: “Stupid white girl makes decision without foresight, then looks to blame someone else.” And if you put it that way . . . not really “newsworthy.”

The tattooist embroiled in a row with a teenage girl who claims he tattooed 56 stars on her face when she only asked for three has said he will help pay for them to be removed. Rouslan Toumaniantz said today that Kimberley Vlaminck ‘absolutely’ agreed she wanted 56 stars tattooed on the left side of her face.

But now the 18-year-old is suing Toumaniantz, claiming she had asked him for only three stars – and had fallen asleep during the procedure, waking up to a nightmare in her Belgian hometown of Courtrai.

Taylor Swift + T-Pain = Best song evar?!

The Paradox — Thu, 18 Jun 2009 21:38:06 +0000

Health Insurers Own Billions of Dollars Worth of Tobacco Stock

Opiate — Sun, 07 Jun 2009 21:59:40 +0000

Fucked up, no?

Spock Sings

Opiate — Sun, 07 Jun 2009 21:24:11 +0000

. . . and it’s excruciating.

Embedded in the Post-

Opiate — Sun, 31 May 2009 15:20:49 +0000

The clocks all agree
they’d prefer eternity
to picking the bones of seconds
for time’s Tantalus-meat,
but there’s no time, it seems,
for whims and ablutions
in the era of animate things.
If time is the negation
of immediacy, we’re strolling
through a spectral theme park
in search of a coaster called
“Devourer of Souls.” Maybe
you’re twisting at the cotton
candy of non-being, a nadaflower
tucked, all jauntily vacuous,
behind your left ear. This
is how non-being is being worn
this year, or so I’m told.
If time is the symptom-world
of a primal “No,” then we’ve been
standing in line for this ride
for a long, long time.
Maybe it’s time to go.
To get outside.
Of language, too,
language being the beams
of time if the two comprise
an enclosure, a Church of Nothingness,
of latter day saints, even.
Our saints are so late
they missed the after-party, too.
Oh, and when I say, “eternity,”
I don’t mean it ascetically,
not as a static, noumenal shindig
with dainty, winged aristocrats,
but as the primal Other
that language/time conceals,
the given, the Gift, ____________.
I’ll tell you what, if time
is money, let’s get the fuck out
of this line and out
of this park and out
of this time and out
of this space, and into
the luminous ellipsis, or
the Realm of OM, or
Edenorama, or whatever
you wanna call it.
Just don’t call it that
to its face.

Food Art

Opiate — Sun, 31 May 2009 12:58:59 +0000

Dig in, suckah.

Meth, O Meth

Opiate — Sun, 31 May 2009 01:50:15 +0000

“Eid Ma Clack Shaw” — Bill Callahan

Opiate — Sat, 30 May 2009 17:15:33 +0000